


Memory in the Raw

by KeevaCaereni



Category: That Guy with the Glasses
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Angst, F/F, Hooker!verse, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:29:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeevaCaereni/pseuds/KeevaCaereni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another one of those nights. Part of Emeriin's Hooker!verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memory in the Raw

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emeriin](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Emeriin).



> This was a birthday present for Emeriin. Hope you liked it, love.

She doesn’t remember on purpose. It gets to her, sometimes, when she’s had a hard night and Critic’s acting up, when Film Brain is back at his home and can’t be there to brighten the room with his awkwardness. Tonight’s been one of those nights, and the whiskey’s hitting a little bit harder than usual and so it gets to her, needling away at her heart like that one splinter you can’t ever get to.

She doesn’t want to remember. _(This is part of the reason why Film Brain’s smile hurts somewhere deep inside.)_

But Critic smacked a customer for going too far and got a black eye and a cut beneath for it, and Michaud had threatened to cut her off again and she’s tired, so tired. Penny’s still sniffing about and Chick is tired of that too. She’s had enough of this life, had enough of the club and all its inhabitants to the point where she’s sick from it.

She gets back to her apartment in the dingy light of dawn and the lock on the door is broken. When she checks the mattress the money is gone and it’s the straw that breaks the camels back. She drops to the floor and curls up against the bed. It’s too much; too familiar for comfort, she wants everything to go away for tonight, wants to be herself again, wants someone else in control, just this once. _(She wants her back.)_

She pulls the pictures out from the drawer they’ve been left in. There’s only a few, and they’re dog eared and smeared from late nights or mornings like this, with too much liquor and not enough control to do otherwise.The first picture is of Nella in their _(then)_ new apartment, looking around speculatively. She looks as though she’s sizing the place up, and Chick knows that after this photo was taken Nella grabbed her apron and gloves and they cleaned the place top to bottom, before collapsing in a heap and watching Labyrinth until they fell asleep.

The second picture is of them laughing and covered in paint. Chick is smearing a line of pink along Nella’s cheek with her thumb. They’d painted the whole bedroom bright pink in a fit of spontaneity and ended up with it everywhere. They’d only moved in the week before. The apartment was still shiny and new, and they were still optimistic; they had plans and options and a place to go. Chick swigs from her bottle of lukewarm beer and tries to hold it together.

The third picture is just of her. She is sitting in a bean bag next to the window _(they didn’t have any furniture then)_ and looking out of the window. Nella took it after they found out there wasn’t enough money for rent. That wasn’t the first time she went out on the streets. That came later. They locked their doors and kept the lights off so the bailiffs didn’t find them, and they played with Nella’s My Little Ponies by candlelight, and somehow scraped together enough money to get the landlord off their backs.

The next pictures are a blur of fading paint and scuff marks, tired smiles and bags under eyes. Chick and Nella flit from pose to pose, the backgrounds behind them collecting empty beer bottles and dirty pots. The bruises start appearing, the smiles stop reaching their eyes. Chick remembers taking the photos, remembers cold nights and hospital wards and locked doors and Nella, always Nella, there with a beer or a crowbar, sprawled over the bed, leant against the worktop and sat in the chair. Nella grabbing a handful and demanding money and puking in the bathtub.

When she gets to the last picture she’s sobbing. The last one is of them the morning after a night out. Chick has bruises along her collarbone, peeking out from beneath her shirt. Nella has a swollen cheek and a taped up hand, but they’re both smiling. Chick remembers how the guy had hit her and Nella had come out of nowhere. He’d put up a fight, but he was no match for Nella and she can still remember the smell of the A&E where they got Nella’s hand taped, and the smile Nella had flashed at her. Afterwards they’d gone home and got Nella drunk until she fell back on the bed and pulled Chick with her, and everything had felt like it was okay.

The next morning she’d been thrown out of bed and ordered to buy more booze.

Chick hiccoughs and drops the empty bottle at her side. She lies where she is, on the floor of her filthy apartment, and drifts into unconsciousness, escaping for a while.


End file.
